


Scheduling Difficulties

by narceus



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narceus/pseuds/narceus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, there are just a few too many people living in the Hudmel house these days...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scheduling Difficulties

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post](http://kendrawcandraw.tumblr.com/post/21896180234/couldbeyourlife-stackedcrooked-i) on tumblr, originally posted to my tumblr [here](http://c-is-for-circinate.tumblr.com/post/21899983310/i-got-inspired-again).
> 
> Mid-season 3.

Rachel has been on a really terrifying kick of counting down the days until graduation lately. Kurt appreciates it and all, but the endless string of group study sessions, karaoke jams, and double dates has gotten to be a little wearing. So he only feels a  _little_  guilty about telling Finn and Rachel that Blaine is taking him out to a fancy dinner in Westerville tonight. They need some alone time, and another five-way game night in the Hudmel living room, with Sam as the awkward extra wheel, just isn’t quite going to cut it.

Blaine comes to pick him up at a quarter after five, and they drive around the block and park half a mile away. Blaine brought Chinese takeout, already hot and waiting in the back seat. They scramble all the way into the back and fold down the rear bench seat so they can have a picnic cross-legged on the floor of the minivan. Blaine laughs at Kurt’s fumbling grip on his chopsticks, not meanly, and feeds him pot stickers one by one.

They could really stand to walk some of their dinner off after they finish, given what Kurt’s planning to do to Blaine as soon as they get home. Besides, if they detour past the playground on Elm Street, they can dispose of their trash in one of the municipal garbage cans instead of leaving incriminating evidence in the house.

Nobody has to know that they’re really just lying to get a little alone time. It’s still a bit too light out to walk hand-in-hand down a Lima street, but the sun is starting to set, and their shoulders brush together with every step.

  
***

  
Yeah, so Sam swore up and down that there was an extra-late synchronized swim practice tonight. He’ll pray extra hard in god club tomorrow to make up for it.

The Hudson-Hummels are  _great_  hosts, seriously great. Sure, he has to take his turn on the rotation cleaning the second-floor bathroom, but that mostly just makes it feel less awkward. Every time Sam’s missed dinner since he’s been here, because of school or swim practice or whatever, he’s come home to a covered dish with his name on it waiting in the oven. If they knew Sam wasn’t going out tonight, there’d be no  _way_  Finn and Kurt would both go out on a Thursday night when Carole’s on late shift. Not when it meant leaving him in the house all alone.

It’s really nice, and it makes Sam miss his own family more and less at the same time, but it really isn’t helping him get with Mercedes. After the whole drama with Shane, and singing a breakup song in front of all of New Directions, and all the uncertainty about next year, she doesn’t really want the rest of the club to know they’re sleeping together.

Sam usually grabs a ride with either Kurt or Finn, if it’s convenient, and takes the bus if it’s not. Today he hides out in the back of the library with Mercedes until 5:00, pretending to work on homework and restraining himself from tweeting about how awesome her hair looks today and breaking his cover. Then the librarian ramps up her glaring at them over her glasses and kicks them out so she can lock up.

The bus is slow, and Kurt and Finn are both gone on their dates when Sam and Mercedes get there. Sure enough, there’s an entire chicken pot pie in the oven, with instructions on the note that Sam is to cover the leftovers in saran wrap before he puts them in the fridge. Carole always makes way too much food; she’s used to Finn the bottomless pit, and no matter how much Kurt or Sam talk about their strict diet regimen, she cooks to fill half a dozen teenage boys.

Sam totally knows where Kurt keeps the candles for nice occasions. Mercedes laughs at him when he whips them out from the cabinet over the refrigerator, and pulls out water glasses.

She insists on doing the dishes and putting everything away when they’re done eating. Sam doesn’t mind too much; it’s an excuse to flick soap bubbles at her nose and make her laugh.

  
***

  
Finn is actually really glad that Kurt and Blaine ruined Rachel’s plans by having a date night. Ever since the thing right before the wedding, Rachel’s been super-paranoid about her dads ever even thinking they might be having sex. The last time he got laid, he had to get all the other guys to pretend they were on a three-day fishing trip while Rachel was supposedly having a BFF slumber party with Kurt and Mercedes.

Tonight, they’re ‘going bowling’. Finn kind of hates going bowling with Rachel, because she gets really competitive and it still reminds him of that time in sophomore year that he tried to fake-seduce her to get her to stay in glee club, but it’s not so bad when they go with Kurt and Blaine. They figured out pretty early on that Rachel and Kurt need to be on a team together or they’ll end up getting thrown out for starting a shouting match in the middle of the bowling alley, but Blaine is chill. He totally knows how to subtly throw a match, too, which is important, because Kurt’s almost as bad at bowling as Rachel.

Instead, after Finn picks Rachel up they hit the drive thru at the only fast-food place in town to serve veggie burgers and make their fries in certified non-animal boiling oil. She lets him steal most of them, and he wipes away a little bit of strawberry smoothie when she gets it on her lip.

The house is dark when they finally get back; it’s after six, but Sam said he’d be at practice until eight and Kurt wasn’t planning to be home until after nine. Plenty of time.

  
***

  
“What was that?” Blaine raises his head and cocks it, listening.

“I  _said_ , if we don’t slow down there a little bit, cowboy, we’re not going to make it to the rodeo,” Kurt gasps a little bit. He lets his head thump back onto the pillow. Blaine has gotten really, really good with his mouth since they’ve started doing this.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Blaine smirks, and glances back down at the flushed red cock just inches from his lips. “Maybe we should put that to another use, then.”

“We need things,” Kurt says, and Blaine sits back on his haunches.

“I’ll wait here,” he promises.

“What? No, Blaine, come on, you’re even still in your underwear,” he says pleadingly. Blaine shakes his head.

“It’s your house, and you’re the one wearing it. Wasn’t that the rule when Cooper was staying at my house and kept coming home unexpectedly at all hours of the day?”

Kurt groans. Blaine helps him out by leaning over to snag the robe helpfully left draped over a nearby chair.

“If you’re fast, I might not even start without you,” he says.

  
***

  
Sam trails a hand down her boob and over her hip, and Mercedes shivers. She wore her lacy panties today. Sam’s fingers toy with the elastic band.

“You ready?” he asks with that stupidly charming grin. Mercedes grabs him by the back of the head and pulls him down to kiss him.

“Where’s the condom?” she asks, and Sam pulls back, a sheepish look crossing his face.

“Upstairs bathroom,” he says. Mercedes raises her eyebrows.

“Tell me you’re not sharing a box of condoms with Finn or Kurt.”

“Um…” Sam says, and that’s all the answer she needs. “We all take turns buying in. Nobody likes getting them at the drug store.”

“Sam,” Mercedes sighs. “You said nobody else knew we were doing this.”

“They don’t! I swear,” Sam promises. “I think they think I’m just sort of doing it as a good permanent mooching houseguest thing, plus I’d have rights to the stash if I ever  _did_  need it. Finn’ll just think it’s Kurt, and Kurt’ll just think it’s Finn…”

“Fine, go,” Mercedes says. She’s not really annoyed, but she puts on a good show of it for a couple of seconds until Sam’s puppydog face gets to her. Then she leans up to kiss him on the cheek, just to make sure he knows she doesn’t mean it. “Just hurry back.”

  
***

  
Rachel still doesn’t know why Finn would keep his condoms in the bathroom, where anybody could find them, instead of his bedroom, but she’s not really sure how  _anyone_  would find anything in here, so she waves him off good-naturedly before anything goes much further than hands creeping underneath each other’s shirts.

While Finn is gone, Rachel strips out of her skirt and cardigan. She leaves her bra on; Finn is terrible at undoing the clasp, but he’s been getting better, and he’s always so proud of himself when he manages that she can’t bear to deny him that opportunity. Then she fluffs up his pillows and picks up a few stray socks to throw them in the hamper. Then she straightens up some of the tornado of papers on top of his desk.

It’s taking a really long time, considering that Finn is usually there and back before she can even finish properly folding her blouse. There’s a stray sheet dangling half off the bed, and it’s probably cleaner than anything else on the floor, so Rachel tugs the tail of it free and wraps it around herself. Not that there’s anybody home but herself and Finn, but it just feels wrong, wandering around somebody else’s house naked.

  
***

  
Kurt’s been gone for like five minutes, and Blaine, who’s been true to his word and not done anything but run his palm a couple of times over his own burgeoning erection, is starting to get worried.

Then he hears the bang from down the hall, like a door slamming or something heavy falling, and now he’s really worried. He took off his boxer-briefs when Kurt left, but he snatches them up and tries to pull them on, dancing on one foot and then the other, before he takes off out the door.

What he finds is…Rachel, standing in the middle of the hallway wrapped in a blue plaid sheet, staring wide-eyed at the closed door to the hall bathroom. Blaine screeches to a halt, suddenly incredibly conscious of how much skin he’s showing, and the bulge in his underwear, and the places where his hair is probably sticking up from Kurt grabbing it five minutes ago.

“Not bowling, then?” Blaine says.

_”You were supposed to be in Westerville!_ ” Finn’s voice is muffled by the thick wood of the bathroom door, but definitely audible. Blaine winces. So does Rachel.

“I saw Sam in there with them, and then they slammed the door,” she says. “I don’t think he wanted me to see that.”

“Wait, wasn’t Sam a stripper?” Blaine asks, and tries not to think too hard about seeing Sam mostly naked at his swim meets.

“He wasn’t wearing underwear,” Rachel says, and Blaine blinks, and tries really, really hard not to picture the inside of that bathroom.

  
***

  
“Sam?” Mercedes calls out. It’s warm in the Hudson-Hummel house, so she doesn’t try to button Sam’s shirt that she found on his floor. Boy has really got to learn to pick up after himself better.

There’s a bang from upstairs. She takes the stairs two at a time.

Mercedes isn’t really sure what she’s expecting when she rounds the last bend in the staircase, but it’s  _not_  a half-naked Rachel Berry and Blaine Anderson, standing in the middle of the hall and staring back at her. Something clatters behind the door she thinks leads to the second floor bathroom.

“ _all the time I spend picking up after the both of you, not to mention cooking and cleaning and helping Carole run this house, and also going out and buying your condoms—”_

“Dude, we all buy the condoms,”and that’s definitely Sam’s voice snapping in there. Mercedes winces and tries to tug the shirt a little more closed over her breasts.

_”I don’t even know why you care, it’s not like Blaine’s going to get pregnant,”_ Finn says, and this time Blaine winces. He shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“They ran out of condoms?” Mercedes guesses, and climbs the last two stairs to join Blaine and Rachel in their little cluster in the middle of the hallway.

“They’re down to the last one,” says Rachel.

There’s another clatter. If there’s three-way wrestling going on between her boyfriend, the guy she used to have a crush on, and the quarterback of the football team, and Mercedes is missing it…this night just got a whole lot more tragic, that’s all she’s saying.

“You know, I could go get more condoms,” Blaine says. “The Walgreens is open 24 hours.”

Something—like, say, a body—thumps against the inside of the bathroom door. “That might be wise,” says Rachel delicately.

“Sure, might as well,” says Mercedes. “But I don’t think anybody’s getting laid tonight.”


End file.
